Stranger in the Looking Glass
by Kawaii Youko
Summary: The plan was to kill Vash the Stampede; but it's easier said than done. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, who vowed to abide by the "Good Book", also vowed to destroy him. Emotions in the way can prove deadly.(Contains SPOILERS; Angst - Spiritual; One Shot)


Disclaimer: I don't own Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun, or any of its characters. They're property of Yasuhiro Nightow.

Author's Note: Warning, this one shot story contains major episode spoilers.

Basically, this is a fic for anyone who enjoys Wolfwood oriented angst. Enjoy the story, then leave me tons of reviews, and if you can, include more than 'great story, update soon'. Thanks!

"**Stranger in the Looking Glass"**

_Intemptesta nox._

The dead of night had fallen; it was in those few lonesome hours it seemed to be dreadfully early, instead of impossibly late. Silence pressed uncomfortably on the ears of the conscious, while simultaneously, images of Heaven and sugar plum fairies passed before the eyes of the sleeping, as they enjoyed a restful bout of "forty winks".

Unfortunately, sleep did not come easily to everyone.

"Where's that blasted lighter?"

Even though the hour was late, and the will for sleep was present, Nicholas D. Wolfwood sat beneath his window. Between two of his fingers, stained faintly with the residue of nicotine, he held a short, somewhat bent cigarette. Having found the much sought-after object, the priest brought the dancing flames to the end of his cigarette, watching as the tip flickered red. Taking a long, steady hit, he closed his eyes, a small column of gray smoke escaping from his lips.

"Much better," he muttered, opening his eyes, and staring blankly at the wall opposite of him.

'_Liar.'_

Wolfwood sighed deeply, accepting the realization that even _that_ had been a lie. He wasn't feeling any better than he had before lighting up. If anything, the feeling of emptiness had grown more apparent. Where the raven-haired cleric would have found solace in smoking, he found only a cough rising in his throat.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked aloud, the words running together a bit.

'_What do you mean 'what's wrong with me'?'_

Almost as if his sub-conscious was a whole separate person, he spoke directly to the voice.

"I mean just that," Wolfwood responded, running a hand through his dark, unkempt hair.

'_Isn't it obvious?' _the voice taunted, in an almost elated tone. _'You're feeling guilty.'_

Nicholas took a minute to ponder over these words, eventually raising the cigarette to his lips. Several ashes tumbled from the end, as the red glow traveled closer to the filter.

"Guilty? What for?"

'_Murder,'_ hissed the voice.

As if a film were rolling, the man in the black suit saw images flitting before his eyes.

_They were on a rooftop; himself, Vash, Meryl and the small children, the orphans, huddled around her slender legs. And, there was Zazie._

_While appearing only a kid, his words and mannerisms revealed otherwise. Clutched in each gloved hand was a gun, his index fingers putting a light pressure on the triggers. Before him, stood Vash the Stampede, unarmed. His hands were held up, trying to convey the point that he was no threat, his gun cast aside._

_Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Wolfwood raised his "Cross Punisher", his finger bearing down on the trigger. Within the blink of an eye, Zazie lie on the ground, dead.._

'_Murderer,' _the voice jeered bitterly, jolting Wolfwood back into the present state of reality.

"I had no choice!"

Vash's face had re-appeared in his field of vision, tears falling down his cheeks. His eyes narrowed to accusing slits, he looked into Wolfwood's eyes, as if searching for an explanation. He could still hear the cold conviction in the gunman's usually placid voice.

'_You didn't have to kill him! He wasn't going to shoot me!'_

"Shut up! Shut up!" the priest snarled, the cigarette falling to the wooden floor as he clasped his hands tightly over his ears. "I told you! I had no choice! What else was I supposed to do?!"

'_But isn't your mission to kill Vash the Stampede?'_

"Kill Vash?" he questioned, blinking.

'_Are you not a Gung-ho-Gun?'_

"I-I am."

'_And were your orders from Knives, passed on through Legato to kill Vash? Was that not your specific mission?'_

"It was."

'_Then why in God's name did you intervene? Why didn't you let him die then and there? Why the Hell did you save his life?!'_

"I-I.. I couldn't let him die," Wolfwood whispered. "Not like that."

'_What difference does it make how he dies, as long as he is killed? What concern of it is yours the manner in which his already doomed fate is sealed?'_

"Killing him is my mission!"

'_That's right! It is your mission! So why haven't you complied and finished the job?!'_

"I don't know why!"

'_You're just a weakling! You aren't worthy of the Gung-ho-Guns if you're not even qualified for such a simple task as killing one man!'_

"I am qualified!" he argued, smashing his fists against the hard-wood floor, causing a small mirror on the wall to fall and shatter into numerous pieces.

'_Then prove it.'_

"I will. Come dawn, he will be dead."

'_Good. We're counting on you,' _the voice told him, speaking no more.

Suddenly exhausted, Wolfwood panted heavily, as if having just finished a marathon. Glancing at the floor, he noticed a rather large shard of glass rest at his knees. He slowly scooped it up, avoiding the jagged edges.

In the reflection, he saw another's face staring back at his. At first he didn't recognize it; deep wrinkles were beginning to take form beneath the pair of tired eyes, and frown lines carved into the rough skin of the cheeks. The man in the mirror looked terribly old and weathered; much older than he could've possibly been. Gradually realization dawned on Nicholas.

It was not just some stranger's dilapidated face peering back at him.

That was his _own _face.

That was the grave face of Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

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Chapter Note: That's it! That's the first and only chapter of "Stranger in the Looking Glass".

What did you think? I'm eager to hear your comments, seeing as this is my first Wolfwood-based fanfic. Should I continue writing angsty stories about the guilt-ridden priest, or simply stick to writing about Vash? Let me know by hitting the 'Submit Review' button! Thank you for reading!

Trigun © Yasuhiro Nightow

"Stranger in the Looking Glass" © Kawaii Youko


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